Dressed in Style Like Clara
by Fiyeraaron
Summary: Cosette is going to murder him. May as well make the most of it, hey?


"What do you think of this one?"

He looks up from his hands. That wasn't Cosette.

"You're not Grantaire."

Who the hell is Grantaire?

He had come in this shop because his sister had texted him telling him to come and meet her at a dress shop. Their parents had a fancy party this weekend, and, playing the part of the perfect twins, they were forced to go. However, sitting in the weirdly comfortable chair, and letting a frown settle on his face, he figures he might have gotten the wrong store.

"I'm not Grantaire."

Despite his confusion, he skims his eyes over the girl. She's petite, short, but long legged. Her hair was lightly curled, brown, and sweeped over one shoulder. He sighs. Her dress is blue, fitted at the waist, falling into soft ruffles to the floor. It's simple, but it shows off her figure perfectly, and draws attention to her red lips. She looks _stunning_. He almost hits himself.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Then where is he?"

He shrugs his shoulders and gives her an incredulous face. "I don't know who Grantaire is!"

"But he _was_ _here_!"

"Well, not anymore, obviously."

She sighs, looking over herself in the floor length mirror. She brushes down the skirt, flattening it out and turning to look at herself from the side. She turns to him and looks him up and down. Huffing, she mumbles to herself. "You'll do." She turns to him and puts her hands on her hips. "What do you think?"

He really should be going. His sister is in some random shop's fitting rooms, waiting for him to come and look at her dress. But this woman seems very impatient, so he figures Cosette can wait. "It's nice." He shrugs.

Her eyes narrow dangerously. " _Nice?_ "

He looks her up and down again and tries to speak. "Yeah, I like how it's... Blue... And stuff."

He's pathetic. He really is. His brain seems to have stopped working.

She shakes her head at him, then gathers her skirts and sets a determined look on her face. "Wait here."

He sighs. Should he text Cosette? Probably. He unlocks his phone and clicks on messages. How does one explain this situation? He starts typing.

 _Cosette, I am so sorry._

He sends the message and places his phone down. She will kill him when she finds out about his mistake. Best to save as much of his life as possible, even if he is only going to spend it watching a stranger try dresses on.

He looks around the fitting rooms. There is only one actual fitting room, a red curtain separating the area. Probably because the shop is so overpriced, they hardly get any shoppers. He is sat on a red sofa, gold accents in the lining, and he glances at himself in the mirror. He is still wearing his suit from work. God, he looks terrible. It's obvious he got no sleep last night, because his hair isn't gelled properly and his eyes are drooping. He glares at his briefcase on the floor.

"Hey, blondie!"

He jumps a little. She means him, right? He stands up instinctively, knocking over his briefcase in the motion. Despite his shock, he doesn't move. He tries to get his legs to work, but he seems to not be able to do anything. He blames his tiredness.

The red curtain opens and he jumps again. She is stood there, holding a black dress onto her body. The back is obviously undone, and he freezes when she rushes towards him. "Seriously, blondie, get a move on." She turns around when she gets to him and he helplessly looks at her naked back, the buttons on the dress looking way to delicate and small for his hands.

When he just stands there, staring at her skin, she grumbles. "My god, just do me up."

He fumbles to reach the first button at the bottom and settles himself when he gets it in his fingers. He breathes deeply and fastens it slowly. Not as hard as he thought. However, when the buttons get tighter, obviously around her bust, he starts to panic. What if he hurts her? What if he breaks the dress? What if he _faints_?

He does up the last couple of buttons as quickly as possible. He looks over her shoulder into the mirror, not stepping back. This dress is nicer. It is full length again, but is more fitted, a constant slim fit, even to the bottom of the dress where it barely skims the floor. His eyes catch on a small necklace on her neck, he hadn't noticed it earlier. A star, he realises, with a small diamond placed in the middle. He smiles at her as she contemplates herself in the mirror.

"This one is good."

She turns her head to face him, not bothering to look at him in the mirror, obviously preferring to use a more direct and head on method. He still doesn't move, once again choosing to stay where he is and tilt his head to meet her gaze. _What is going on with him?!_

 _"_ What is _good_ supposed to mean?" She's not as angry as last time, but she is still not impressed by his answer.

"It's better than the last one. We're making progress."

She looks at herself in the mirror again, placing her hands on her hips.

He quirks a lip at her, all tiredness forgotten. "What is it for?"

She doesn't seem to be paying much attention to him, focusing on the dress, because she gives him an answer half heartedly. "Party."

He raises an eyebrow, still standing close to her. "A _party_?"

She looks at him in the mirror then with a level stare. "Not a house party. It's some fancy gala thing my _friend's_ friends are having."

He nods. "Why did you say the word 'friend' like that?"

She spins around to face him then, taking a step back so that they aren't touching. "What do you mean?"

"You said it like they aren't your friend." He grins at her, genuinely curious now. He had initially wanted to just tease her, but now he really wants to know.

Staring at him for a few seconds, he sees something flicker in her eyes. She turns around again, looking at herself in the mirror. "I think it's a date."

He feels something drop in his stomach. "Oh."

"Which is why I had gotten my friend, Grantaire, to come and help me choose an outfit. I need to make sure I look good, it needs to be perfect. His parents will be there."

Enjolras frowns. "Is he some type of rich, stuck up guy, who places a woman's self worth upon her ability to look nice at fancy gatherings?"

She frowns at him in the mirror, stopping her ministrations and dead panning. "No, he is quite the opposite of that. _I_ want to look nice for _me,_ not because I want to impress him. If I know I look great, I'll feel great."

"Alright then. How many other dresses do you have to try on?"

She looks down at the dress she has on, stroking the material. "One more. If it looks shit, I'm going to a different store and _you're_ coming with me." She eyes him in the mirror, then nods a little and walks into the dressing room. Closing the curtain behind her, his mouth gapes open.

He stares after her. He wants to tell her that he has plans, should already _be_ at said plans, but he can't drag himself to say it. He wants to stay here with her. He can't think of the reason why, though, so he just settles on the easiest one: Cosette is going to murder him when she realises where he has been, he wants to savour his last moments. If those moments just happen to be spent with this gorgeous woman, then so be it.

He's still staring at the curtain when it opens a couple of seconds later. She's stood with her back to him. "Unbutton me, pretty boy."

He rushes towards her and fumbles with the buttons again, glaring at them slightly. "Enjolras."

She turns her head slightly to look at him over her shoulder, and, despite his difficult task, he looks up at her anyway. He can see the few freckles that are lightly scattered across her cheeks clearly. "What?"

His cheeks redden. "Enjolras. That's my name."

She chuckles and looks forward. "That's not a name."

He straightens up. "Yes it is. It is mine."

Despite the fact that her dress is half undone, she turns to him fully, her hands barely holding the top up. The star necklace is glinting at him. Her eyes are narrowed, her lips pulled into a smirk. "Is it your surname?"

"Yes. But I go by m-"

"-so what is your first name?"

He crosses his arms across his chest. "Like I'm gonna tell you." He shakes his head and looks over her into the dressing room. He can see a neat pile of clothes in the corner, and a pair of long black boots stood next to them along with a large green bag. Beside him is a small chair, with hanging rails on the walls. He can see a red dress next to the blue one she previously tried on. He can't wait to see her in it.

He can hear her grumbling. "Come on, dude, we're _friends_ , you can tell me. It's not like I'm gonna laugh at you." She shrugs, seemingly thinking that his first name is no big deal. The only people who know his first name are his family and Combeferre, and that's only because the doctor saw it on a private letter once.

He looks down at her. Her eyes are wide. And dark. Despite the obvious curiosity, he can see a touch of amusement dancing in them. He caves. "Gabriel."

She grins. "Gabriel Enjolras."

He nods, rolling his eyes. "It's horrible."

She grins even wider. "Hey, my name is Éponine Thenardiér. I'd say our names are on the same level."

He frowns at her. "Éponine is a beautiful name."

Her grin turns into a smirk as she turns around again. "Could say the same about yours, Gabriel. Now _unbutton_ me."

He laughs at her. He unbuttons the dress with surprising ease, and steps back. "Come out when you're done, I'm excited about this one." He closes the curtain for her, turning around and walking to the mirror.

He can hear her mutter the word ' _freak_ ' under her breath as he examines himself in the mirror. He chuckles again. Wow, this is the most he's laughed in at least a week. He straightens his suit jacket, fixing the buttons to make it neater. He runs his hands through his messy hair, attempting to style it in a way that is at least _decent._

He hears a soft ' _oh_ ' from inside the fitting rooms, and he turns towards it immediately, expecting Éponine to be stood there. When all he sees is the red curtain, he sighs. He can't hear anything anymore, almost straining his ears for any sound.

"Éponine?" He calls softly.

He can hear her speak, but he has to walk closer quickly to make sure he understands it perfectly. "It's on."

He leans a shoulder against the white wall next to the curtain. "How is it?" He desperately wants her to come out.

She doesn't say anything. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

He clears his throat. "Can I- can I see it?"

He waits for a few moments before he hears it. "Yeah."

The curtain opens abruptly, and she's suddenly stood there in front of him. His eyes widen embarrassingly.

"Wow." He practically breathes it out, and he would be embarrassed, but the hopeful expression in her eyes is so _adorable_ thathe can't be humiliated.

It's the red dress, and it fits her perfectly compared to the others. It is, just like the black dress, fitted, a scooping neckline whilst still remaining modest, showing her curves off. The back of the dress, barely visible to him because of their positions, flows out in a (what Cosette has _drilled into him because for god's sake Enjolras it's not just a skirt_ ) fishtail finish. The neckline is sparsely covered with diamontes, and the sleeveless straps are covered by her dark hair which contrasts perfectly with the deep red of the material.

She looks into his eyes, and he can't seem to look away. "What do you think?" She seems to be really timid, the confident and witty woman he saw a few minutes ago completely gone.

He can't break their gaze, and his mind goes blank. He tries to open his mouth and say words, but he just manages to nod his head in response.

He thinks his wonderment and awe shows through to her, because she smiles at him. "Really?"

He nods again. "You look... You look..." He can't think of a word to describe her. "...Beautiful."

She blushes, and his eyes light up, his chest swelling with happiness. He doesn't dwell on that, because _what the hell?!_ Instead, he stares at her again, watching as she walks past him and looks around at herself in the mirror.

"You need to get this one."

Éponine chuckles, and it makes him smile. He stands next to her in the mirror. With his suit on, they look just about ready to go to some fancy event. She just reaches over his shoulder, even in heels.

"Hey, we're matching." She points to his chest. When he looks down, he notices that he is wearing a red tie. Looking up, he smirks at her.

"What can I say? I knew this was going to happen."

She laughs at him, but gets distracted by the dress again. "I love it."

He almost says three words that could completely ruin everything, so clamps his mouth shut with a strained smile. Seriously, what the hell is going on with him today?

She nods. "Okay, I'm getting this one." She walks straight past him into the fitting room, and he stands like an idiot watching her walk away again. He walks back and sits on the red sofa, sighing as he settles down. His briefcase is still hazardously knocked over, but he leaves it. He'll get it later. He sees his phone light up and his blood drains cold. _Cosette_. He picks up his phone slowly and gently, opening it and wincing as he reads the messages.

 _Enjolras_

 _[4 missed calls]_

 _Where the hell are you?_

 _ENJOLRAS_

 _I will come and murder you when I find out where you are_

 _[3 missed calls]_

 _Enjolras, you're constantly on your phone, why aRE YOU NOT RESPONDING?!_

 _You said you were outside the store twenty minutes ago_

 _[2 missed calls]_

 _You are the worst brother_

He types a message to her:

 _I'm in the wrong store_

He looks up when the curtain opens, revealing Éponine in jeans and a large black jumper. "I thought you would have left." She walks further towards him.

He frowns. "Why would I have left?"

She shrugs. "I've stopped trying dresses on."

He nods, standing up. "Are you busy?"

"Now? Nope, finding a dress was my goal of the day."

He bends down to pick up his briefcase. "Good. Do you wanna go and get a coffee or something?" He wants to tell her that _his_ goal of the day was to find a dress, even if it was for Cosette, but then she'll think that he wants to leave her alone which he does not at all.

Her mouth opens a fraction, and her eyes go wide. "Yeah."

He smiles and watches her walk past him. A salesgirl walks past him and collects the dresses (where had she been all that time?) and she smiles when she comes up to him. "Excuse me, sir. Which dress has she chosen?"

"The red one." He grins at her, watching her place the other two on a rack.

He walks out to find Éponine stood at the till, chatting with another salesgirl. He walks up behind her and places a hand on the small of her back to get her attention. "Hey."

She looks up at him and smiles. "Hey, you ready? You kind of just stood there for a while when I left." She's amused, which makes him smile.

"Yeah, I was just..." He doesn't know what to say, so he is almost thankful when his phone starts vibrating in his hand. Looking at it, he sees that Cosette is calling him. His eyes alarmed, he looks at Éponine. "Sorry, I have to take this."

He turns around and walks outside the small shop, answering it only when Éponine couldn't hear him. "Cosette, please don't be angry."

" _Oh, how nice of you to finally pick up. I feel so special._ "

He sighs. "I got distracted, Cosette. I'm sorry."

" _Distracted? By what?_ "

"I went into the wrong shop."

" _Yes, I know. And why did you not leave that store as soon as you realised I wasn't in there?_ "

Her voice is dangerously angry, and he actually winces. "Because there was another girl trying dresses on, and I-"

" _Are you seriously telling me that, instead of leaving straight away, you stayed with this stranger to try to and help her find a dress?_ "

He tried to come up with a witty response, but he is too scared to make her laugh. "Yes."

" _I've been stood here for twenty minutes, waiting in this tiny fitting room for my brother, who has been watching another girl change in a different store?"_

"I didn't _watch_ her change. I _helped_ her, yeah, but I didn't _watch_ her." His face is red, he can tell.

" _Well, are you finished now?"_

 _"_ Well, yeah, but now-"

" _Come and help me now."_

"I can't."

Her voice is deadpan when it returns after a few terrifying moments. " _Why?_ "

"Because I'm going to get coffee with her."

There is silence for a few moments. " _What? Are you being serious? Enjolras! How could you do this-"_

"Enjolras?" Éponine walks from behind him carrying a large pink shopping bag, tied with a ribbon at the top. He glances down and immediately takes it from her, placing it with his briefcase. She grins at him. He tunes back into Cosette.

"- _rude, it's just mean. I'm your sister, I should have priority over some random girl you met trying on dresses. It's weird, Enjolras, it's not a good story to tell to your grandchildren."_

He almost stops her. It _was_ a great story.

"Cosette, I've got to go now."

" _But what about my dress? I need to choose one!"_

"The one you've got on now is lovely." He's smirking.

" _Enjolras!"_

He hangs up the phone. Placing it in his pocket, he offers his arm to Éponine.

"Shall we?"

She takes it with a grin.

"We shall."

* * *

Turns out that it's the same party.

Courfeyrac, one of his childhood friends is her date, but Éponine spends more of her time dancing with Enjolras than she does talking to Courfeyrac. Cosette doesn't speak to him for the entire night, but Éponine's laughter is enough to get him through the cold glares from his sister. She gets distracted by a man named Marius half way through the night though, so he hardly thinks he was the only happy one.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading! Please review, it makes me so happy!**_


End file.
